


Dreaming the Hardest

by tisfan



Series: MCU Drabbles [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Drunk Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Surprise Sex, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:26:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10056809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Tony has a few too many drinks and goes to bed alone....He doesn't wake up alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is dub-con. In a real life situation, the fact that Tony is both intoxicated AND asleep makes it impossible for him to consent. That being said, both fic and real life can be complicated. If this is going to bother you, please just skip it.

Tony hesitates before he pours himself another glass of whiskey, bottle neck chattering against the cut-crystal glass. There are only five of the original twelve left, victims to drunken guests, accidents, and once to a mad idea that it would be sexy and exciting to throw an empty glass into the fireplace. (Protip: It isn't)

He had already had more than is good for him; he’ll pay for that in the morning. On the other hand, there is barely a glass left and it isn't worth putting the cap back on. If he can even find the cap. All right, maybe it is slightly more than a single pour. He drinks the last of it directly from the bottle before returning his attention to the glass. _What the hell?_ He tosses back half the glass in a long swallow.

He drops the empty bottle to the floor, listening to it thunk against the carpet. The penthouse has been empty for days. So has most of the rest of the Tower; Tash and Sam and Bucky and Steve, all on mission. Tony, on the other hand, isn’t with them. While his teammates are out there risking their lives, Tony is on medical leave for some dizzy spells that turn out to be low potassium. Because Tony actually crashes the armor into the side of a building, Steve put his foot down. And uses his prime access codes to override Friday. Because Steve sucks.

 _Enough_! Tony slams the glass down on the table. He hates being alone. Too many days and months and weeks of being alone. Maybe he’s had enough to drink that he can sleep. He doubts it, but he might as well try. He throws himself through the shower, not wanting to wake up with the stench of drunken sweat on himself.

Jersey sheets are, by far, the best invention thus created. Soft, smooth, absorbent. Tony falls onto the bed, leaving wet smudges behind, elbows and knees mark wet prints on the comforter, but he doesn’t care. No one cares. He’s alone in the penthouse. There's no one else _to_ care.

People talk about flying in their dreams. Tony flies in real life, but never in his dreams. Sometimes he runs without ever getting tired. This dream, however, he is swimming in a sea of absolute blackness. He doesn’t need to breathe. He is warm here, safe, in a way the water hasn’t been safe for him in years.

Tony senses marine life around him, a whale glides, powerful and enormous, beneath his bare feet. His fingers trail across the leathery shell of a sea turtle. Glittering jellyfish spray a galaxy of constellations beneath his naked body.

A dolphin nuzzles teasingly at his splayed thighs. A starfish closed over his chest, squeezing playfully. His nipple tightens under that clench. Tony moans, soft and needy.

_Did you miss me?_

A warm mouth takes possession of Tony’s, licking salt and seawater from his lips. The ocean surrounds him, takes a vague, heated form. There is a hand between Tony’s legs, slick and heated. He stirs. _How_ \-- he tossed his limbs, attempted to kick away --

_No, it's all right, kitten. Shhhhh. I’m here._

Soft, cool blackness cover Tony’s eyes. Twin kisses are placed on each eyelid, soothing his confusion. Tony floats in the tides and let the sea have its way with him.

_Let me take care of you._

Lord Neptune in all his power and majesty, takes form from the waves. The touch of a god sends shivers through his reckless body, delighting Tony’s flesh and singing along his veins. Each brush of an unseen hand, each kiss delivered from those lips, sets his nerves alight with wanton longings.

Tony let his head fall back, baring his throat to gentle bites. The god licks, nibbles, nuzzles at Tony’s neck and ears, tonguing that hollow below his shoulder that always makes him shudder with pleasure. Tony stretches out a hand, run it along the nude body that has risen from the sea. Each muscle in his arms and back is clearly delineated, a wonder and amazement under Tony’s hand. Tony reaches his hip and the god tugs Tony’s fingers away, returning his arm to above his head.

_Relax. Let me. I want to hear you crying out for me. Want to worship you._

Him, worship Tony? Tony obeys from sheer bewilderment. He holds himself still under wandering hands and mouth, letting the god do as he wishes. Each movement, each kiss and caress, is just what Tony needs. A hot, slick mouth closes over Tony’s nipple and he arches his back, hands clenching at the fingers that restrain him. The god suckles there, drawing Tony’s taut nipple in. Each stroke of his tongue rips moans from Tony’s throat. He is aching with sensual torment. Each deep pull of his mouth echoes in Tony’s belly and in his groin. Tony’s toes curl. Starbursts of red and gold bloom behind his closed eyelids.

Tony arches his back as high as he can, encouraging, wanting, _needing_. He presses against the warm body, wanting only that the god will keep doing what he does, so very well.

He glides down Tony’s body, easy and light as water, the flow and play of skin against skin sets Tony ablaze with desire. Crazy, random thoughts fill Tony’s mind; so fortunate that they are trysting deep under the waves. The passion between them would ignite them both, were they on dry land. His hands are on Tony, spreading his thighs, fingers dancing along Tony’s legs. He presses a kiss against Tony’s belly, tastes the shallow dip of his navel.

Tony’s arms tremble; he want to embrace the god, to twine his fingers through long, silky hair and drive that questing, dangerous mouth to where he wants, where he needs… but he obeys. Tony remain still, almost passive, under the God’s expert touch. He strokes Tony’s flanks, tickles at the back of his knee where the skin is sensitive. Tony cries out, shivering and shuddering, his hips thrusting against the heavy weight. Tony’s cock aches; hard, throbbing, leaking precome. He feels it pooling against his belly, hot and sticky. The sound of his heart beating, the rush of waves against his ears, these are the only sounds.

Tony floats in blackness, warm skin against his.

Tony lets his legs fall open, welcoming, inviting. A hot, slick, full mouth deposits kisses along the protruding hip bone. Tony moans, bringing his knees up to rest against broad shoulders, bracketing the sleek head between his eager thighs.

_Something you want? Open for me._

The god plants a tiny kiss on the inside of one quivering thigh. Tony wants to scream at him; _Do it, do it now!_ But he is still held fast by the waves and water under the god’s control, nearly smothered by its blanketing force. All he can do is spread his thighs further apart and let himself be taken.

The god accepts the wordless invitation, his tongue laps eagerly against Tony’s cock. Warm, tasting, exploring. Fingers cup Tony’s balls, gently. His tongue encircles that the head of Tony’s cock, teasing at the leaking slit. It amazes Tony, as it always has, that so much pleasure can come from such a small area. Then thought itself is wiped clean from Tony’s head, dissolved into foam. The god unleashes a flurry of sensation against Tony’s cock, licking and sucking him down into that slick, tight throat. Wet fingers protrude, breach Tony’s asshole, opening him, working him. The fingers scissor, pressing against the ring of muscle, a hot, tight burn against the cool waves. Tony writhes in the water, frictionless and crazed with need.

Tony is held down, on the edge, fingers sliding in and out of his hole, mouth sticking fast to his cock, too much sensation. Kitten licks against the base of his cock, all the way to the head, drives Tony to madness, creating delicious urgency. But there is no release.

Tony finds words in the darkness. "Oh, please, _please_ ," Tony pleads. The vibrations against his cock, frissons of agonizing delight, tell Tony that the god is laughing, amused and pleased by his wanting, his need.

The god relents, pressing his fingers up and forward, finding that perfect place, working Tony’s prostate with brutal accuracy. Tony wrenches his hips wildly, twisting against the perfect pleasure of hand and mouth. The dream slips from him as all his muscles tighten, impossibly rigid, throes of pleasure. Each nerve seizes and crackles with lightning bursts of pleasure, holding Tony tight in a sensual embrace.

Tony shrieks, his voice rough and needy from a dry throat and through clenched teeth. _I can't, I can't, I can't._ The words batter against the inside of his skull, clanging and echoing. It's too much, too sweet. Tony’s body feels a separate entity from his mind, lost in passion that he cannot control, rebelling against those things which are too good, that he does not, can not _possibly_ , deserve.

The screws tighten, tighten. He cannot breathe and yet his lungs are working like a bellows, yanking in useless air. Tony blood is on fire. He crests, and then Tony is coming. Waves of heat, pleasure, impossible desire, sweep over him. The god’s throat works, swallowing everything Tony has to give him. Everything in him goes limp with the suddenness of a snapped rubber-band and he falls back with the release. Tony lays there, head against the pillows, eyes staring blankly into the darkness.

After some indeterminate amount of time, Tony turns his neck slowly. In the darkness, he can only see the glitter of reflection of a mental arm, the faintest gleam of gray eyes. He sense, more than sees, his smile. "Bucky?"

"Who else?"

Tony laughs, throw his leg over Bucky’s hip with no small amount of effort. "I didn’t think you were going to be home tonight!"

"I left you a message," Bucky says, brushing sweat-soaked strands of hair out of Tony’s face. "Who were you making love to, if you weren't expecting me?"

"I was dreaming." 


End file.
